Like Punxsutawney Phil

Like that stupid groundhog, I poked my head up, out into consciousness and reality to see if it was all over. And thankfully, it was.
I'd like to skip over all the blogging about our wonderful, warm and fuzzy, bling filled, loved filled, movie quality Christmas, past my yawn of a New Year's Eve party (not that my guests were boring but in rebounding from my last NYE party were my walls were bulging at the drywall seams with people, some I didn't even know). I invited way too few people for a proper party and conversation didn't really flow, boobs didn't pop from under shirts and no one got pregnant in my bathroom, on to just regular ole today.
No pictures of cute kids in matching Christmas jammies and wild eyes filled with excitement and surprise as four wheelers were discovered in the garage. No Christmas casserole recipes or any of that shit.
Just regular today.
Logan is officially a college student. Registered, bought the tee shirt, laptop in hand, pencil pushing college student. Two online classes and two on campus classes. He is taking a full load. In less than 2 weeks his mother of a pain in the ass pins come out of his hand and he is happy. Focused, clear headed and happy. The good news about my once troubled and sad large boy just keeps on coming. He kept his promise, he stayed the course (God, what a good pun) and I am nauseatingly proud and gushing about him.
Hard work really DOES pay off. Who knew.
Medium boy is my steady eddy. Just trucking along in school, wailing in his guitar and talking about HIS college life where he is going to become, one day, a brain surgeon.
Small boy is still struggling with staying in his own bed at night but this weekend we are buying him a new bed and he is going in for a sleep study. I personally think he has sleep apnea but saddling him with a breathing machine for it at the tender age of 7 is a thought that is breaking my heart. But if it has to be, it has to be. Something has to give because I haven't had a full night's sleep in 7 years. Possibly why I look 110 years old.
This month Larry officially becomes an old man. 40. Frankly, I'm hosted out and the thought of throwing him a party makes me want to hurl. Would I be just thee most shiteous wife if I didn't mark the occasion with just a little something special?
And finally.... finally football season is the fuck over. In past years, by this time I would have had such a fill of football I'd have fantasies of taking those fat lips of John Madden's and wrapping them around his head to suffocate him just so I wouldn't have to hear the sound of his voice but Larry has toned it down just a tad and it's not as painful as it used to be but still, I'm glad it's over. Just that one little game they play to determine the winner in February and once again, the sound of whistles and cheering won't be competing with the sound of electric guitars in my house.
And that is our January 2009. Is it terrible that I'm glad all the yule and glitter is over for another 11 months? I know my bank account is.
As requested, here is the Christmas before and after picture. I am 6 pounds from my goal and Logan is down a head of hair and 60 pounds!! The first picture is from Christmas last year.